Talk:Something to Read 2: Inner Voice/@comment-4107522-20171003062701
Something to Read Entry 2 It was late at night… Well incredibly early in morning to be quite accurate. The black cat walked to the kitchen and stuck her hand through the refridgerator: phasing through the matter and waving her digits to grasp the placement of the milk that always seemed to be in that location. Tonight it wasn’t there, and she was forced to open the door: causing the faint humming to get slightly louder, and the light to turn on. It was unlikely her parents would hear in their bedroom, but past events left a paranoia. She was almost an adult now. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t risk some hours lost of sleep. She’d be sleeping in tomorrow anyway so really what was there to bother her? “Hm,” A single huff of humored breath came out as she noticed the left light in the fridge blinking. ‘Hard to believe they haven’t gotten someone to fix that before I saw it’ she pondered while searching for her target. The milk was behind some items for once, in the back, not the door. ‘Weird’. She pulled it out, unscrewing the lid and prepared to guzzle down a sip right there, but paused: considering the option of a cup instead. Her teeth gnashed at the idea of having to maintain such manners with these people. Her thoughts kept getting more and more remote from her circumstance, and the blinking light became increasingly distracting. She was leaning for about a minute now, just staring at it, and softly muttering to herself. “What now?” She asked herself. “I won’t be here long for sure. Mph!” She shoved the door shut: milk jug still in hand. It was a thwap heard throughout the house but she couldn’t cling to a care at the moment. The flustered cat sat herself at a nearby counter, at some point having subconsciously gathered a cup and poured herself a fair amount. “Could just end it…” She pondered, taking a sip. What did ‘end it’ mean though? Her life? No, probably not. She wasn’t about to waste her own powers like that. “… Them?” She narrowed down. The thought had crossed her mind… a lot. “I don’t… they aren’t… “ She wanted to say they weren’t bad people but they were, so she settled on “They aren’t monsters.” Then she remembered what they did with her grandfather. She heard herself, her child self screaming while being dragged from him. The whole time, he was telling her it was okay. “They are monsters,” She spoke. “Every time… I used to love travelling but-“ “Only got yourself to blame,” She groaned, taking another sip. “You knew it was going to happen. You decided to make friendly with those two.” The twins. It was ridiculous but they were unbearably friendly. She suspected them the first time they met by how accepting at least Tess was of her. Then she remembered that first day, in the dark, saving them… and them finding out. “Had to… They knew… Couldn’t just kill them. Kind of defeats the purpose of trying to save the day.” SHING like a blade cutting through a wall, she heard the memory of all the petty criminals she did horrible things to. She almost never killed of course, but a severed hand or two- “I stopped that… mostly…” “I started cutting them without breaking them instead… like some kind of pyscho… Maybe that’s what I am.” “That’s not the point,” She sighed, pouring another drink. “I’ve… built things here…” “Like him?” “Don’t…” She couldn’t stop herself. Herself was already thinking about the adorable casual and perfect face. He really was such a nice guy, not that she was willing to get closer to him. Now she’d have to break the news. She heard them talking that it was time to move on. What she would have done to see them working in retail as poor people trying to make ends meet. Then she could… mock them, having her own job: the job she got on her own. “They deserve to pay,” She growled. Her hand fell through the counter, taking her out of the moment. She blinked, looking over her condition. She was fine. The cat took a breath. “… Overreacting… I just want… to stay…” “No one would know. Foster parents would work better than these.” “Not fair… Not…fair…they… Just want their plastic toy girl to do what they say and…” she sighed, “follow in their footsteps.” “They think it’s just a phase.” “They’re wrong.” “Too wrong… Just take things… into your own hands! Stop letting them hold you back!” The cat gasped, bracing her hands on the counter. The milk had spilled. She spent about twenty seconds panting before she saw a taller figure walk into the kitchen, turning a low light on. “Lizzy, what- oh,” Her mother sighed. “Well, clean it up.” Lizzy looked with wide eyes at her mother. The daughter wasn’t tearing up but she looked almost scared. Silently, she got off her chair and went to the sink: taking a towel to clean up. “Were you talking on your phone? Who was that?” Lizzy froze: hand curling at the drenched towel soaking up the white drink. Her other hand slowed to her lower leg: the small slot she often kept her strange dagger. “No one… I think…”